Circles
by Lazing
Summary: Yuffie contemplates about circles, boxes, and lost chances. Mild Yuffentine.


AN: This is my first fanfic, so I hope you like it. I hope that my exploration of Yuffie's personality didn't make her too OOC.

Disclaimer: Well, I can't have everything in the world. FF7 and its characters would be one of the many things I don't own.

Circles

We used to talk at night. I mean, I used to be alone, and he never slept. I was used to sleeping lightly and watching my own back at night. You can't survive in a forest otherwise. I know enough to keep as quiet as I can when the sun don't shine. I'm not stupid. I just pull the stupid act to keep people annoyed and amused. I blow my little emotions completely out of proportion so I can hide the big ones. I think that's not too unheard of. I mean, if you're always angry about one thing or other, no thinks anything if you're really pissed. And if you're smiling, no one will ever ask you what's wrong.

That's the difference between us.

I'm convinced that he wanted his shell to be broken one day by someone whom he deemed worthy. Otherwise, why would he put on that angst-muffin, cold-as-ice façade? He has to know that it draws attention to his past. He has to know that it makes people itch to make him happy again. Well, basically, he has to know that it makes him look cool. I mean, sure, he's probably depressed and everything his outside says that he is, but his outside also screams out for all rabid fangirls and all acquaintances and comrades to reach out to him because there is something more on the inside.

It's like he's a box that people will try to open.

Me? Oh believe me, I've tried to open that box. And I think for the most part, I've done as well as I could on it. I told you. We used to talk at night. We once had a conversation about technology – something that I'm sure most members of our group could never imagine me talking about. The oblivious brat talking intelligently about something other than materia? It doesn't even seem likely to me. Actually, our first conversation was about living. You know, the difference between existing and living and the difference between life and death? It was pretty deep, even for the inner me. I think that was the first time he snuck a peek behind the mask.

You see, I'm more like a circle – people don't need to alter me.

Well, it took me a long time to perfect this mask. I mean, if you're too cheerful too much of the time, people will know if you're too drained of energy to keep up the façade. If you show just enough emotion about the little things and not the big things, a little anger here and there, a little sadness, huge mood swings, people will learn to get used to it, and then you'll be free to have little lapses in covering yourself and no one will ever think to ask if there's anything more bothering you than the little stuff. Sure I cracked a little when Aeris died. But there was so much more that I was crying for… her magnificent race, the future of the world, Wutai… everything I could possibly cry about were in those tears. Then, I snapped back as soon as I could without drawing suspicion to my mask. They thought it was all Aeris.

I guess a circle shouldn't be able to open a box.

I already told you that I tried opening him. It was a fascinating project. Every glimmer tantalized me more. I was addicted to that discovery feeling. It was like a Pandora's Box, not meant for my eyes, but tickling my curiosity all the same. Curiosity caused my circle to try to open the box, but circles won't keep boxes open. And I wanted to see inside the box so bad. Well, we used to talk at night. I didn't notice it until it was too late. He – his beloved box was poking and scraping at my circle and breaking it. I was too thoughtful with him. I was too serious. I was everything I tried not to be. My rolling came to a halt when I was with him. I got scared.

A broken circle never did anyone a whole lot of good.

So when he was dropped off from the Highwind after the whole Sephiroth/Meteor thing, it was a relief despite my protests and show of sadness at the loss of team unity. I patched up my circle, which was an easy job with him gone, and eventually ended up helping Reeve with his WRO. See, with Reeve, it's easy to roll. He's the equivalent of a normal person – he's not a square, he's not a circle, but something in between. With him, there are very few sharp corners to break in with. He was safe. He wasn't like Barret or Cid – they would eventually annoy me to the point that I would actually want to break my circle to show them that I was more than a brat. And Reeve wasn't like Tifa who, having strong instincts, would eventually find out about the circle and use claws to tear it apart.

The circle was thicker the next time I met him.

I was stubbornly dorky and bratty even in front of him during the silver-haired men crisis. Ha! I still laugh at my nonsensical screams about insects when he mentioned "larval form." I wasn't looking at him, but I could feel him narrowing his eyes at my outburst trying to find a trace of the broken circle. Thank goodness we weren't together for too long after that. His suspicions would have been hard to ward off since my circle broke so completely last time I was with him. We used to talk at night. There were no conversations at night that time around. I made sure of that.

At long last, the box was pried open, though.

Yeah, but it wasn't me who did it. Circles can't open boxes. Circles don't try to change squares. It was the original Pandora herself. The memory of Pandora was enough to set the box free. Yes, that and neo-Pandora, that little ten-year-old-looking punk. I guess it takes a human to open a box properly. And all of a sudden, he was a lot less boxy; not a complete square anymore. He changed. And inside my little circle, I despaired that it wasn't me who did it. I figured out that a broken circle could become a straight line, and straight lines could become like rods, and rods could open boxes. But it was too late. I had failed. I wanted my circle to break so I could reach out to him instead of roll helplessly away. I wanted to tell him that he was special to me, being the only one to succeed in breaking my circle.

But I lost my chance.

In the end, my circle was more important than the box outside of it. I already told you that he wanted his shell broken – that he wanted his redemption crap, his truly magnificent inside to be discovered. He was broken out of his box, and now, he's free to change. Funny that he was the would-be immortal one and I'm not, but I'm the one that will change the least. I've tried to let him break my circle again, but it's not the same. The circle was too thick, the newly constructed one. Besides, I had already rolled too far away. Now, we only used to talk at night.


End file.
